


A Few Simple Ways to Enrage a Superman

by Suruberry



Category: DCU, DCU (Animated), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Batfamily Feels, Bruce is REALLY an idiot, Bruce is an idiot, Clark takes no shit, Crack, Fluff and Angst, M/M, sassy Clark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2013-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-20 08:43:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/885275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suruberry/pseuds/Suruberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And How Batman is Not Good At Fixing Relationship Thingies. </p><p>Clark is mad at Bruce, their friends would say. The Man of Steel is mad at the Dark Knight, the media would say if they knew their true identities. Clark is mad at Dad, their children would say.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gala Night

**Author's Note:**

> All characters mentioned are property of DC Comics and Warner Bros.

Clark is mad at Bruce, their friends would say.

The Man of Steel is mad at the Dark Knight, the media would say if they knew their true identities.

Clark is mad at Dad, their children would say.

Clark was indeed furious at his husband of four years after Bruce decided that Clark did not deserve the sweet, loving, loyal husband treatment, but the throwaway boy-toy treatment at a gala, filled to the brim with a gallery of Bruce's peers. Bruce was laughing with his upper-crust friends, usually the jokes were at Clark's expense which almost caused the former farm boy to rip off his ridiculous, big horn-rimmed glasses and raise hell. However, Clark just decided to smile and nervously laugh at the horribly demeaning jokes that Bruce told these people. He was thanking his lucky stars that his super hearing didn't go as far as hearing people's thoughts. _They probably think I'm some pretty country bumpkin that just got lucky in snagging Bruce Wayne_ , thought Clark. Clark endured Bruce basically showing him off like he was some sort of trophy, but that didn't last for long.

The gala had ended; Bruce said his good-byes to his fair-weathered friends and escorted Clark to their car, Alfred in the driver's seat waiting on them. “So, how did you like the gala? I know you didn't, but at least, we pretended like we were somewhat interested in some ancient instruments,” quipped Bruce.

Clark didn't reply walking along side of him in silence and that was a BIG warning sign that Bruce has fucked up along the way. The Dark Knight himself is very worried when his husband is mad at him. Yes, the man who had put away criminals such as the Joker, the Scarecrow, AND Bane was scared of his husband being mad at him. Bruce tried to grab his husband's suit jacket that he had in his arms, but Clark swiftly jerked away from him as soon as Bruce laid a finger on the jacket.

 _Ohshitohshitohshit_ was the Dark Knight's current thought process.

They finally reached the car and Alfred said his greetings as Clark got in the car first, but those greetings felt like muffled sounds to Bruce due to the fact that the blood has rushed to his head with all these worrying thoughts.  Bruce slipped in the car, hearing Alfred’s muffled greeting, just giving him a nervous nod of the head to show that oh yeah, everything is just fine.  Except when Clark took off his glasses and gave an annoyed sigh which was completely out of character since Clark barely gets mad so this _totally_ confirms Bruce’s fears, but Bruce had a brilliant idea. He quickly shut the door and gave Alfred the notion to drive off which Alfred knew that gesture was double-speak for “Roll up the window so me and Clark can try not to scream over each other.” The window separating the driver and the backseat passengers quickly rolled up and Bruce took his chance, grabbing Clark’s face and proceeding to kiss him sloppily.  Clark was starting to get frustrated after a few minutes of the absolutely horrific kiss he has ever had, but he didn’t draw the final straw until Bruce decided it would be a wonderful idea to stick his hand down his partner’s pants. Clark quickly ripped Bruce’s hand away from his crotch area and pulled away from him, scooting extremely close to the window.

Oh, if the silent treatment wasn’t a warning sign, this was the final nail on the coffin.

“Um, Clark…Do you want to talk about it,” asked Bruce, nervously.

Clark slowly rubbed his temples and turned to look at his husband with a look of contempt that the Dark Knight never knew it was capable from someone like Clark Joseph Kent-Wayne.  He slowly articulated, “…I absolutely hate it when you get around people like them. Clark turns into Clark the Toy, not Clark the Husband. You completely forget that I am your husband and not some cheap fuck that you charmed the pants off of at one of your charity balls. Yes, my working for the Daily Planet at home is SUCH a big joke to you. Are you mad that I don’t depend on you and play stay-at-home wife for our kids – oh let me correct myself – _your_ 8 kids? You’re an insufferable prick and I hate that I have to see your face both, on and off duty. So in other words, that’s all what we have to talk about, _dear_.”

Bruce was practically speechless, but he knew if he would try to argue with Clark, he would probably be punched so hard that he would be orbiting the Watchtower deep in space.  He couldn’t sweet talk or gifts himself out of this mess like he usually could when Clark with get pouty like this, but he’s not particularly pouty today: he’s down right _furious_. _Cue the extremely long ride home_ , groaned Bruce internally. 

 

 


	2. Plotting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And How Batman is in the Doghouse.
> 
> Something in Bruce dropped; either it was his heart or remaining sense of dignity after angering Clark. Most likely it was the loss of dignity and pissing off your significant other who can bench press the entire manor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters mentioned are property of DC Comics and Warner Bros.

The whole hour drive back home was uncomfortably quiet with the only sounds filling the car was the car itself driving through Gotham and Clark furiously texting Lois about his husband’s idiocy. The virtual _clack-clack-clack_ from Clark’s Galaxy S IV and the _vroom_ of the car kept up a better conversation than the two superheroes sitting right next to each other. There would be times where Clark would simply just talk to Lois about this and she could usually sway him from his dramatic ways within a few minutes, but today is going to be a little bit more difficult.  Today, Lois is trying to convince Clark to not do anything drastic to Bruce’s precious muscle car collection a la what he did to that trucker’s 18-wheeler back when Clark was big into disappearing and using fake names.

_Clark, I know Bruce is a shithead, but destroying his cars won’t do anything!_

/…But it’ll make me feel better./

_Don’t do anything drastic. You have to remember you ARE a father now and you wouldn’t want the precious babes to pick up on your bad behavior._

/First of all, I’m those kids’ stepfather and secondly, Jason and Stephanie do _far_ worse than what I have cooked up for their father./

_Why don’t you do what normal gay men do? DEPRIVE HIS ASS._

/Depriving? You mean as in sex and stuff like that?/

_C’mon, Smallville, you can think of something better than just “sex and stuff.” Like you don’t have to play peacemaker with the older kids when they get at each other’s throats on your top-secret Justice League missions and depriving him of ANY sort of affection, sexual or just loving._

/…You’ll think that will work?/

_Of course! You ARE your man’s king and he just hates when his Clarkie isn’t attached to his dick for a good 12 hours. So, do that to him and he’ll apologize for EVERYTHING he has done to you, kiddo._

/Lois, you know you’re the only woman without a heart who would do th-/ Clark thought about how dependent Bruce would be if he did the things his boisterous friend was more capable of doing.  This might give him the respect he finally deserves, but the not playing peacemaker to the older kids (Barbara, Dick, Jason, and Stephanie) wasn’t going to happen since Clark knows that those kids would turn Wayne Manor on its foundation with their gadgets and martial arts skills.  He _is_ the only one that is physically able to break up their squabbles with a simple puff of super-breath or grabbing them by their yellow utility belts with one quick dash. 

He quickly erased the message and wrote a new one: /OK, I’ll do the depriving him of sex and affections, but the kids? You forget that Bruce would be lost if I didn’t help him corral up the kids even with Alfred’s help./

There was a pregnant silence after Clark sent this message since Lois was a lightning fast texter, but once again, the sound that filled the silence was the car driving up the insanely long “driveway” (to be honest, Clark considered it another road unmarked on the maps and tucked far away that a hyper-intelligent GPS couldn’t pick it up). 

Meanwhile while Clark was laying his burdens at Lois’s feet, Bruce sat the majority of the ride, sulking and going on how stupid he was. Well, to be honest, Bruce didn’t think that he did anything that was wrong at the gala or what he did a while ago. Then again, Bruce’s oldest son, Dick, always reminds him that he doesn’t really know how to express feelings like a normal human being should since Dick remembers how awkward Bruce was when Dick came to stay with him after his parents had passed away when he was younger. Despite him being a father of eight, Bruce doesn’t do feelings, emotions, relationships, and emotions. He’s the goddamned Batman! _OK, that sounds five times better in my thoughts,_ Bruce lamented.  Once again, the _clack-clack-clack_ resumed and Bruce just shifts uncomfortably in his seat, allowing Clark to tell that red-headed wench that he calls his best friend all about their marital problems.

Finally, the silence was broken when Alfred announced that they are finally home. Clark haphazardly snatches off his Givenchy necktie which caused a stifled gasp from Bruce’s corner of the car. A reaction that was almost as satisfying as ripping this glorified, expensive rag of silk off his throat.  Clark quickly looks at his phone before exiting the car, but no new text message from Lois even though, he believes that he’s on the right track with their proposed plan. Alfred attempted to open Clark’s door for him, but Clark had already pushed the door open and stalked his way up the driveway, glasses perched on top of his head and the silk tie resting sloppily on his shoulders.

Alfred was able to open the door for his Master Bruce who was looking very pale and exasperated, but Alfred expected him to be like this since he knows that Master Bruce has wronged Master Kent in some terrible manner.  “I assume you have angered your Master Kent, sir,” drawled Alfred in that dry tone that Bruce knows all too well.

 “Alfred, it’s nothing I can’t fix,” Bruce pauses for a moment, “…He’ll be back to normal in the morning.”

“Do you think so, sir?”

“…I hope so.”

Suddenly, they heard a sudden cacophony of voices, ranging from very high pitched babbles to deep sarcastic tones, and oh, here they are. The Wayne children waiting in the front door, all dressed in their pajamas and looking very annoyed at their fathers (well, technically one is a stepfather) and caretaker. Since Clark had made to the top of the treacherous hill that was a signal that yes, you are almost to the entrance, he was the first to get tackled by two little bodies, belonging to the runts of the litter, Cassandra and Timothy.

“Well, I’m happy to see you both too,” chirped Clark, holding Cassandra on her bottom so she won’t fall off his neck which she was clinging to oh-so-tightly.

Timothy was clinging onto Clark’s leg and silently lamenting not taking his older sister’s idea in hugging their stepfather’s neck, but Cassie was a far better climber than he was.  Timothy (attempted to) barked at the Man of Steel, “What took you guys so long?! The twins pooped themselves all night and yanno, how Dick always makes Barbara change their diapers since she’s like a girl and that’s what girls are supposed to do. Right, Cassie?”

Cassie swiftly kicked her brother in the head which is Cassie code for “no, you idiot.” Any type of physical violence towards her brothers or gentle tugging on her sisters and Clark was basically Cassie code. “Now, Cass, play nice,” cajoled Clark, trying to walk with the still clinging Tim to his leg and succeeding much to Tim’s chagrin who had his heart set on causing the imperfection-free Superman, or better known as his stepfather, to trip or any type of trick that he had set to see if his stepfather couldn’t be Mr. Perfect all the time.  

Alfred had moved far faster than Bruce, who was still mentally preparing for the screaming match that would most likely ensue later, and had pulled the two children off of Master Kent, receiving an exasperated groan from Tim and a motion of grabby hands from Cassandra. With seeing Alfred carrying the two tykes in and seeing Clark offer to take Cassie off his hands, something in Bruce dropped; either it was his heart or remaining sense of dignity after angering Clark. Most likely it was the loss of dignity and pissing off your significant other who can bench press the entire manor. However, he decided to just suck it up and just mentally prepare himself for their continuing argument because what’s the use of avoiding it? Then again, Bruce isn’t very good at maintaining relationships so with him mentally preparing himself to actually face up to his mistakes is a step in the right direction.


	3. Father to Daughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or how Barbara Wayne deftly gave her father some relationship advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters mentioned are property of DC Comics and Warner Bros.

After a night of trying to calm the wide-awake Wayne kids down and hearing the many grievances that the older kids had for them as soon as they walked in the door, Clark and Bruce Wayne decided that it was high time for them to go to bed. Well, go to bed in different rooms. Clark decided that he would not allow his idiot for a husband in the room tonight or any night, as of now, so Clark got ready for bed as normal, but he did something extra to the bed. He removed all three of Bruce’s stiff pillows, his annoying silk blankets that he desperately needed in the fall, and the alarm clock that could wake the dead from their eternal rest. He did this all the while when the Dark Knight was downstairs in the Cave, checking the cameras he placed around Gotham to see if there was anything that would require their help so that meant Clark had a solid fifteen minutes to rearrange the bed for himself and any of the munchkins that would come into his room with their usual nightmares. Bedding in hand, Clark tosses them outside the bedroom door, swiftly locks the door behind him, and waits for the World’s Densest Detective to try, in vain, to open the door.  _Time to see how this plan of Lois’s will pan out, but right now, sleep,_ thought Clark as he fluffed his pillow and settling underneath the comforter, slowly drifting to sleep.

Bruce remained in the Cave while his tired husband rests in their locked bedroom which Bruce saw all transpire due to the cameras he had installed in the house after Jason’s tendency to run away and travel to the unsavory places of Gotham. The Dark Knight sighed heavily because man, oh man, did he screw up this time. He’s screwed up plenty of times before, but this one takes the cake since Clark hasn’t _forgave_ him yet which he usually does in like ten minutes of Bruce’s screwing up. However, this time is very different and it’s a clear indicator that Clark has hit his limit which frightens Bruce because _what is this limit_? He rubs his tired, computer strained eyes and turns off all the dozens of monitors at his computer, just sitting quietly amidst the rushing water that surrounded his cave which made it extremely difficult when trying to train the Triad (Barbara, Dick, and Jason) in the ways of Bat-fu. _Err, that came out really lame_ , bemoaned Bruce. Sometimes his inner dialogue is REALLY dorky, nerdy and completely not Gotham’s only hope-ish.

He decided that he was just going to go back up, assume the position of sharing the couch with their black Great Dane, Ace, and just sleep off this awful night and hopes for the best. He heard soft pats of bare feet coming from the immense flight of stairs that one must face before actually entering the Cave and he assume that it was his oldest boy, Dick, since he had to be the adult in situations like this and convince Bruce to stop the terrible things that he is doing to Clark and to get his shit together. Funny how a 17-year old is wise beyond his years compared to his genius, but socially stunted father, but it wasn’t Dick this time. It was Barbara, the eldest of the eight Wayne kids and she looked like she was ready to channel some much needed frustration on her idiot father.

Barbara scratched her fiery red hair and yawns, “Dad, you really need to get with this whole ‘being in a committed relationship’ thing because it’s kind of important if you want to keep your marriage and our weird, little family together.”

“Babs, why are you down here? Aren’t you supposed to get a little bit of sleep before the twins suddenly wake from their restless slumber,” implored Bruce.

She continued down the steps stifling yawns and sleepiness which almost caused her to fall, but thank God, she grabbed onto the rocky wall before she slipped and fell down slick, military grade plastic steps that her father SWEARS will be of benefit if the Manor was attacked. However, at this moment in time, it’s just a death trap for anyone who has the wrong kind of socks on. “Well, the one thing I would like to know is who designed these steps and when can I shoot him in the eye with a Batarang? Secondly, I’m down here to be the responsible, eldest child and tell you that you _really_ need to stop doing the things you constantly do to Clark. Really. It’s getting to the point it’s unbearable. Unbearable for him and totes unbearable on our part, yanno, the eight kids that you simultaneously sired and or adopted,” the redhead quipped.

He shouldn’t be taking this amount of sass from his teenage (well, technically, she’s not since she’s going to college) daughter, but dammit, she was right for once. The Caped Crusader rubbed his tired eyes once more and sighed, “I know, Barbara, I know.”

Barbara finally got to the last step and damn near fell once more because Dad decided it would be another brilliant idea to use an underground lake/waterfall as a lair which means wet rock. She groaned, “Why didn’t you just build another room with actual floor and stairs instead of this room? Anyways, you need to get better at this relationship thing because I’m afraid when I come home for break that you two will be divorced, separated, or Clark punches you into the stratosphere. I’m rooting for the stratosphere option myself, but I’m sort of derailing my argument, aren’t I?”

Her father looked at her with as much contempt that he could muster up.

“Anyways, Dad! You really, really need to fix this before it’s too late because, to be honest? I feel that you two are at that breaking point and I know you can’t magically fix it for the sake of the family, so at least try, OK,” asked the redhead, in an unusually dry but serious tone.

Bruce sighed, “I’ll try, but I hope we’re not at that point, Babs…”

“Don’t worry, everything will work itself out. You just gotta have a little faith or what faith you have left after protecting this crazy city.”

“Heh, don’t get so cocky. Gotham will be under your or your brothers’ protection when this ol’ Bat hangs up the cowl.’

“Oh, joy, can’t wait,” drawled one of the future protectors of Gotham.

Bruce got up from his seat and hugged his daughter who was taken aback by this display of affection because Batman doesn’t do affectionate gestures. But, who has time to argue over semantics? He pushed back Barbara’s fluffy bangs and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. “Time for bed, kiddo. Don’t worry, your jackass of a father will figure this mess out. Well, I should say try, but I’ll try my hardest, OK,” said Bruce gently.

Barbara smiled warmly at her father and chirped, “OK, Dad. Good night.”

She gave her father a quick peck on the cheek and haphazardly made her way back up the stairs, making sure that she cling to the railing more and secure her footing better.

Waiting for the bookshelf that hid the Cave from unauthorized eyes close shut, Bruce makes sure all the proper security measures are in place and dim the floodlights surrounding the control center and other parts of the Cave, Finally, the recognizable _clunk_ resonated in the cavern and Bruce made his way upstairs, thinking of what he’s going to do about this situation and hopes and prays that Ace doesn’t try to hog all of the couch.


	4. Teamwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How the Justice League and Lady of Brass Attempt to Help Their Two Idiots. 
> 
> Shayera, lifting her helmet to rub her ear, groaned, “Well, what good come from us doing nothing for them, Mari? I thought the fearless Justice League could save the world and help mend an ailing marriage.”
> 
> “Your sense of humor is hilarious, Shayera,” said Mari dryly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters mentioned are property of DC Comics and Warner Bros.

The first few days weren’t _that_ bad.

Clark and Bruce acted civilized towards each other during their mission to Japan in which a small-time villain thought it would be a _brilliant_ idea to transform manga drawings into real life entities which was such an insulting mission for Shayera, err, Hawkgirl, who simply smashed the garish creatures with her electrified mace and Mari, err, Vixen, who simply ran through them with the speed of a gazelle, all the while, trying NOT to yawn. The mission was over after the Flash grabbed the perp who tried to sic some large mass of flesh who screamed that he was Heracles from the legends which made Diana, err, Wonder Woman laugh because Heracles NEVER looked like some berserk-looking wild man, but the creature slowly faded away when Flash pried the item from the creep’s hands.

After handing the small-timer to the authorities, the League decided to hang around in Tokyo after the mission since they weren’t needed somewhere else in the world and universe for once since the League’s creation. This gave them time to figure out why the Dark Knight and Man of Steel weren’t speaking to each other, but they decided it wasn’t their business. Well, Mari decided to make Well, Mari decided to make it her business. The She-Fox decided to make it her business on the basis of two important facts; one, it’s Clark, her Precious Kryptonian Baby, and his relationship with Bruce Wayne, the man with the most shocking amount of emotional immaturity when it comes to relationships, and two, fucking Bruce Wayne. She quickly spun around in her neck-breaking platform heels and quickly lifted up her teashades and said in her heavily accented voice, “OK, am I the only one who is seeing the two Wonder Boys acting strange towards each other or is this one of those funny Mari does not understand white men things?”

John, err, Green Lantern, swiftly bumped into Mari since she did stop while they were walking which deserved a rather colorful exchange from Mari in her native language. He quickly shrugged her off, “Woman, stop with all that voodoo language and just tell us what your nosey ass thinks.”

Mari quickly bared her fangs at John which received a rather girlish giggle from Diana and continued, “While I was so rudely interrupted by Lantern, I’m saying that the two haven’t been exactly joined at the hip like they usually are after missions, which is rather strange, but I’m not complaining because their PDA habits…”

Diana mused, “Well, maybe something may have happened.”

They could hear Shayera scoff over their communication devices as she flew over the entire country to see if there was any strange happenings going on that would require their attention. “Something always happens with those two, Diana,” the Thanagarian drawled.

“Bird does have a point, Pussycat,” retorted Mari.

“…I’ve told you SEVERAL times not to call me ‘Bird’, McCabe.”

“You’ll live, Parakeet,” the She-Fox giggled.

“Can we _please_ get back to the matter at hand,” bellowed John, green eyes flaring.

“Shh, Stewart! You can’t pull your ‘Angry Black Man’ shtick while we’re in fucking Japan!”

“…Swear to God, Mari, I hate you so much.”

They noticed that they were attracting some unwanted looks mostly due to Diana’s being 6’4” and continued to walk, Mari and John attempting not to kill each other with their respective powers.

Diana sighed, “Always with the wary looks, but let’s not dwell on that so what are we going to do about Clark and Bruce?”

Mari adjusted her tight bun that was losing a few braids from its circular prison and grunted, “Damn thing…Well, we’ve exhausted our usual options and this situation looks worse for wear. Bird, you have any bright ideas?”

Shayera answered, “Well, we could do the cliché ‘let them talk them out’ option or we can do what people do on _my_ planet.”

John pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned, “Shay, that involves bodily harm.”

“…What’s wrong with that,” pondered the Thanagarian.

The Amazonian piped, “Many reasons, Shayera!”

“Ignore her, Pussycat. You know she has a violence boner that just won’t turn flaccid as much as she thinks of all the kittens playing with yarn,” sneered Mari.

“You know I can still hear you, McCabe!”

“Well aware of that fact, Hol,” chirped the fashion designer.

“FOCUS,” bellowed the Green Lantern.

“I agree with John. We should really figure something out before they head home and speaking of Bruce and Clark, where are they so we can figure this nasty situation out,” inquired Diana.

“Clark is doing a little bit of shopping for the kids and Trust Fund – err, I mean – is having some meeting with a few of his board members in Japan or some shit,” remarked Mari.

“So does that give us time to dream up this harebrained scheme to fix this predicament,” asked Shayera in the most bored manner.

“Um, friends? Pardon me for interrupting our scheming, but where is Wally,” inquired Diana.

“Probably running around the Sea of Japan, far away from annoying me,” chuckled the She-Fox.

Suddenly, a blur of red came ripping down the quiet street, deftly picking up the older lady despite her screams of “GODDAMNIT, WALLY” and other colorful language.

“Well, we found him,” smirked John.

After a good hour of trying to get Mari from Wally’s grip which meant that they somehow got near Mount Fujiyama of all places, they decided what they were going to do with the World’s Most Dysfunctional Couple, err, Finest.

Mari announced, “You geniuses decided it would be a good idea for those two queens to go on a vacation and take two weeks off of League duty?”

“First of all, Mari, ‘queen’ is such a derogatory term to describe them,” proudly said the Princess of Themyscira, “and secondly, it would somewhat improve the relationship, don’t you think?”

Mari casually rolled her eyes and chided, “First of all, hello, I’m a lesbian? I know what queenly behavior is and those two are total queens and secondly, I don’t know about this idea because do you all remember that Batsy _did_ try to talk to Clark when we were suiting up and Clark kind of shut him down?”

“Yeah, that was kind of weird,” chattered Wally.

“So,” asked Mari in a curious voice.

“So what,” parroted Wally, Shayera, and John.

“WE DON’T DO ANYTHING, YOU IDIOTS,” the older woman bellowed.

Everyone winced. Mari tends to forget that her yells and screams are on the level of any big cat roaring.

Shayera, lifting her helmet to rub her ear, groaned, “Well, what good come from us doing nothing for them, Mari? I thought the fearless Justice League could save the world and help mend an ailing marriage.”

“Your sense of humor is _hilarious_ , Shayera,” said Mari dryly.

“I think we should at least try, but like Mari said, we really can’t do anything for them, but,” dragged Diana.

“Always with ‘but’.”

“But we can aid them when they’re on missions with us; however, their home life? I do not think it’s wise to intrude on them in their most intimate of dwellings,” proclaimed Diana, nobility oozing from her voice.

“Well, Princess does have a point,” said John, holding back a yawn.

They all made bored hums of agreement, signaling that they were all ready to move onto something else that _didn’t_ pertain to either Clark or Bruce.

“Well, since we’re all in agreement, let’s go get something to eat. Bird, I’ll bring you back some birdseed or whatever you birds of prey enjoy picking the eyes out of,” sneered Mari.

“If only you bring me the remains of what poor wildebeest you killed during your hunt, darling,” Shayera jeered, mimicking Mari’s sickeningly sweet, mocking tone.

 The two women were about to have their usual insult/screaming match but John and Wally swiftly broke that up and the team went their separate ways, the others heading to some restaurant that Mari raved about on the way to Japan while Shayera took refuge in a cave near the mountains.

Meanwhile, Clark was debating on getting these two outfits for Cassie and Stephanie at a boutique in Shibuya. They were matching pink hoodies with long bunny ears attached to the hood and a small fluffy tail at the end which really drew Clark to it. Cassie was like Stephanie’s little shadow, always imitating her mannerisms and even trying to dress like Steph the best she could with articles from her tiny wardrobe so these hoodies were perfect for them. He had already bought the older boys the things that they wanted: Dick wanted a bunch of premium Japanese candy for himself and the cultural festival that he was helping out at school; Jason, a few anime figurines since he maxed out his credit card that was for emergencies only buying these glorified action figures online for outrageous prices; and Tim just wanted some toys, specifically Pokemon since Babs had taught him how to play the old school Game Boy games of it.

 _Oh, just get them already, Kent. You know both of them will like it so what’s the big deal,_ proclaimed Clark’s inner voice. He caved and got the hoodies for the girls, along with some matching outfits for the twins, Damian and Terry, since he’s one of those parents who want their kids to dress in the _cutest_ matching outfits but oh well.  The now-in-civvies Man of Steel paid for the clothes and left the shop before he ended up buying up the whole store for the munchkins of the Wayne clan. He tried to balance the many shopping bags he had in his hands as he walked the bustling streets of Shibuya, trying desperately to blend into the background. Well, that would be hard to do since he’s the epitome of your run-of-the-mill pretty white boy supermodel type and his height isn’t doing him any favors as well.

However, he could laugh at how brilliantly Lois’s plan is going for him after a few days of trying it out. Clark had been acted cold towards Bruce and the only time that they truly talked was in regards of him passing Clark the salt or asking him to change the twins’ diapers which was REALLY satisfying to Clark since Bruce had a nasty habit of making the older girls do it. Nothing had gone horribly awry at home or even on missions since he felt that everyone was totally ignorant to it. Well, not their peers in the Justice League but their children were blissfully ignorant to their stepfather committing mental warfare on their father, Clark chuckled to himself. He shifted the bags more since he’s supposed to keep us this bumbling nerd façade until he gets to the company that his idiot husband was holding a meeting at. Granted that meeting was all the way in Marunouchi, one of Tokyo’s business districts, which was a decent thirty minutes away from Shibuya but that wasn’t a problem for Clark since he doesn’t get tired walking long distances. _Eh, he could catch a plane back home. No use for me to wait around for him_ , mused Clark.

The Man of Steel cruelly thought of leaving his husband behind in Japan, but that would be too mean and Clark didn’t particularly want to hear his whining when they got home. On the other hand, he would be flaking out on his own scheme by letting Bruce have the false sense of that Clark has forgiven him so this is a bit of a dilemma. Clark’s brain was racked with these decisions that he gained a small headache. He rubbed his forehead, making futile attempts to nurse the throbbing pain and he noticed that he was attracting unwanted looks from the pedestrians walking beside him. He walked a little faster than usual, trying to walk the pain away and the looks, only to crash into a small redheaded object, causing the person to fall down.

“Ow! Watch where you’re going, you big lug! Waitaminute, SMALLVILLE,” exclaimed the voice that obviously belonged to Lois Lane, Pulitzer Prize winner, best friend of Clark Kent-Wayne, and forever the thorn in Bruce Wayne’s ass.

Quickly helping her up and helping her dust herself off, Clark chirped, “Lois, when did you get here?!”

Lois, swatting her friend’s hands away and readjusting her blazer, snapped, “Well, I’m here to enjoy the street fashion and sights. What do you think I’m here for, Kent? I was assigned to report your hubby’s meeting with LexCorp’s Japanese sister company that specifically specializes in weaponry and other goodies, mostly your typical tricked out military issue planes and y’know, video game design. Still trying to figure that last one out myself. So, Wonder Boy, may I ask why are _you_ here? I’m hoping not following your husband after that lengthy conversation we had a few weeks ago.”

Clark looked aghasted at Lois’s snide comment and protested, “You know I’m here on more pressing matters that we can’t simply dicuss out in the open, Lois. Anyways, I have been following your strict orders and they have been going rather smoothly, if I may say so for myself.”

“Oh, are you sure about that, kiddo?”

“Positive about it, lady. I’ve deprived him of sex, attention, and general affection towards him and that seems to demise his cocksureness when we go to those high society type galas and pushiness around the house. How sure is that, Laney,” quipped the Man of Steel, smiling impishly, showing off his dimpled features.

Lois gave him a semi-weary look, but softened since Clark was capable of following a _few_ orders that she barked at him. “Well, that should knock ol’ Brucey down a few pegs then, I hope. The kids noticing anything fishy between you two,” asked Lois.

“I don’t think so. I think only the older kids are aware of our little situation, but they don’t rather care to discuss it with their father since they end up going on and on how Bruce is in the wrong and you know that he can’t stand that,” snickered Clark.

Lois cackled, “Ah, yes. The wounded ego of a millionaire playboy who has always been surrounded by yes-men being destroyed by his own children. While I don’t think Japan’s nice denizens take kindly to a couple of foreigners taking up most of the walking space with our loud talking and laughing so do you wanna grab some lunch and catch up a little, Smallville?”

Clark smiled, “Sure. Hey, do you wanna carry some of these bags for me? They’re awfully heavy.”

“Heh, yeah right, a person like you needs help carrying a few shopping bags. Real funny, Smallville.”

“Always here to make you laugh, Lois.”

 

 

 


End file.
